


Pretend that you love me and kiss me again

by mee4ever



Series: Pretend that you love me and kiss me again [1]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Newt, Depression, Everything after the first chapter is completly real, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fingerfucking, Jealous Thomas, M/M, POV Newt, Past Relationship(s), Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Content, Spooning, Stalking, This only starts out as a fake relationship, Thomas is a mean fucker, Top Minho, but there are some newtxthomas, it's not pretty, this is minhoxnewt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 10:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5331401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suddenly, there was a guy beside him. He was of Asian decent, possibly Korean, Newt didn’t know him and Newt thought he was extremely handsome.<br/>“Hello, gorgeous,” the man said, leaning on the bar. Looking at Newt. Newt stared back for a second before blushing and start looking around to see if there was anybody else the bloke could’ve addressed. Instead he sees Tommy and his heart sinks. </p><p>Or the one where Minho helps Newt get over his ex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Eleven months, three weeks

**Author's Note:**

> This was suppossed to be a short one, then three chapters, and now it is three chapters and nowhere near the end. We'll see where we'll end up! [Lovi](http://crybabydraco.tumblr.com/) was totally involved in a lot of stuff and I am too lazy to find them all. The first prompt was along the lines of: OH LOOK THERE IS MY EX BOYFRIEND, QUCIK MAKE OUT WITH ME or something and then it kinda evolved. 
> 
> Art inspired by this piece can be found [here](http://free-to-be-no-one-but-mee.tumblr.com/tagged/pretend+that+you+love+me+and+kiss+me+again). 
> 
>  
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

Newt was going to have one drink. One drink and then he’d slip away unnoticed, that’s was his plan and usually was. His co-workers from Glade Inc. didn’t seem to find the concept of “no” as a real thing so he was dragged into these after work nights out way more often than he wouldn’ve liked. So he went, without a fuzz, sipped on a martini for an hour and then left. There wasn’t many of them that exactly talked to him, even though (or might _despite_ ) he was one of their bosses. But there he was. Seated by the bar, his co-workers to his right and his alcohol in front of him. Waiting for time to pass. Suddenly, there was a guy beside him. He was of Asian decent, possibly Korean, Newt didn’t know him and Newt thought he was extremely handsome.

“Hello, gorgeous,” the man said, leaning on the bar. Looking at Newt. Newt stared back for a second before blushing and started looking around to see if there was anybody else the bloke could’ve addressed. Instead of finding anyone in the close vicinity that might have been the actual interest of the man’s approach, he found Tommy. Sitting in a booth with a brown haired girl across the room. Newt felt his heart sink, his gaze faltered and he stared down his gin and vermouth. He hadn’t had the pleasure in seeing Tommy for a while, was pretty comfortable with that. Now he just wanted to run home again.

“That was a real sudden change of emotion,” the man said beside him and Newt flushed again because he’d almost forgotten he was there. He shot him a quick glance and a small smile.

“It wasn’t because of you,” he explained, “I just… saw someone.” The chair beside Newt was pulled out and the guy seated himself, placing his own martini on the bar top.

“Who did you see?” he asked and sounded quite interested. Newt just felt his ears burn.

“No, it was no one...” He got raised eyebrows at that.

Newt sighed. “It’s just an ex.” The man looked even more intrigued. He must have a very boring life, Newt thought. And Thomas wasn’t just an ex. He was _the_ ex.

“So who is it?” the man asked and looked around the room. “So I know the competition.”

“He’s not competition, ex, you know the concept?” Newt thought he might have sounded condescended but the guy just snapped his fingers and finger gunned towards Newt like he had a point. He furrowed a brow, was met by expecting ones. He sighed once more.

“It’s the guy over there,” he flailed a hand towards Tommy, “with the brunette. His name’s Tommy and he’s a real ass.” The guy turned in his seat, inspected Tommy and the brunette, which Newt now realised was Theresa. Bloody bastards. Fucking, disgusting pieces of shits. Motherfucking arse-

“What? Who? That guy over there?” the man asked and as he indicated the right dark haired guy, Newt only nodded. Tried not to think about it. The man laughed.

“What? You dated Thomas? Didn’t you’re mother teach you to stay away from the bad guys?”

“My mother is dead,” Newt said and that was not at all what he wanted to have said. Maybe asked how this random dude that might or might not actually hit on him, knew who Tommy was, whether or not this was a practical joke and why it was such a shock he’d dated Thomas. He would bet it was because he wasn’t at all as pretty or good looking as any of the people Thomas usually fell into bed with.  

“Oh, shit, sorry,” the dude said and Newt rushed to say that it wasn’t his fault, he couldn’t have known. It was quiet for a beat.

“I just,” the guy said with a huffing laugh, “didn’t know Thomas dated. How long were you together?”

“Two years,” Newt said cringing. It had been a fucking nightmare. And the best daydream. Roller coaster probably was the best description. More down than up though, he’d realised that after they’d broken up.

“When did you break up?” the guy asked, nose scrunched.

“‘Bout a year ago.” _Eleven months, three weeks._ Not that he counted. He just hadn’t been seeing anyone since, so there wasn’t really any other dates to keep track of. It wasn’t like Thomas had left him in a broken mess, never wanting to date again, no, he just… hadn’t been ready. Wasn’t ready. There was a bit too much trust to date, there was a bit too much of Newt that he just couldn’t offer up anymore. Maybe one day. In a distant future.

“Didn’t know he could hold to one bloke for more than a week.”

Newt scoffed at that. “Yeah, no, he couldn’t.” Newt took a sip of his drink and stared at all the bottles behind the bar. Listened to the music for a second before tuning it out again, Katy Perry had never been one of his favourites. He’d never kissed a girl and liked it.

“Sorry, mate,” the guy said, smiling apologetic. It made Newt warm all over. It shouldn’t have. He tried to shake it and asked instead:

“How do you know Tom-Thomas?” He really should get over himself and stop calling Thomas "Tommy".

“Have some mutual friends,” the guy said, sipping his drink and flinging his loose hand around as to show his circle of friends. “Seen him about.” Newt nodded. They fell silent. Newt finished his drink and the man bought him a new one without asking. Newt was glad he wasn’t able to see himself because the color his face took must have been humiliating.

“So, do you want to make out?”

“Excuse me, what?” Newt stared at him, waiting for a fit of laughter but it didn’t come.

“You know, to make _him_ jealous? I am quite good looking if I can say so myself.” The man grinned and Newt stared even more. It was a very interesting offer, Newt couldn’t deny that. He considered it. “And he knows who I am too,” the guy added, like that would somehow make his proposal more intriguing. In reality it made Newt want to reject the offer. He didn’t really want friends of Tomm- Thomas to… He didn’t even know what he didn’t want them to do. Anything, really. So he shook his head.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea,” Newt said eventually. The other man shrugged.

“Totally your choice, I was just thinking...” Newt tuned him out as he heard Thomas laugh. He looked. Thomas had thrown his head back and cackled loudly. It wasn’t as breathtaking as he remembered it. Tommy composed himself a couple of seconds later and smiled broadly towards Theresa. Newt looked away, focused on the man in front of him instead but he could still see in his peripheral vision that Thomas looked up from his date and stopped his gaze at Newt.

“...I mean, he really deserves it after what he did-” the other man continued. Newt cut him off, by kissing him. It wasn’t planned. Newt had just gotten a sudden rush of _fuck it_ when Thomas had actually seen him. He’d just gone for it. The other man was surprised for a second before returning the kiss, pressing his lips and leaning forward. That in turn made Newt surprised. Especially when the other guy’s tongue found its way onto Newt’s lower lip. Newt opened his mouth slightly and hesitantly met the man’s tongue with his own. Things exploded in his body. He hadn’t kissed in over a year and he was high on adrenaline, he was in a loud bar, a fucking stunning man was kissing him and… and he felt _good_.

“Isaac, is that you?” He heard Tommy say. They ended the kiss pretty abruptly and Newt turned his head. The usage of his real name had made Newt flinch. Thomas's stupid grin welcomed him to his left and his stomach clenched.

“Hey, Tommy,” he said unwillingly, waving a little.

“I thought that was you! And who’s your… friend?” He turned to the other man.

“Wait, you’re Minho, right?” Thomas said, pointing a finger. The supposedly “Minho” looked at him with a rather condescended expression. He raised his right hand, in a gesture that made both Thomas and Newt believed he was going to shake Thomas hand and Thomas raised his too, but instead “Minho” put his hand over Newt’s and started drawing circles on his knuckles. For show, Newt believed. Loved it none the less. Thomas stood a bit taken aback and put his hand back in his pocket.

“Yeah, I’m Minho,” Minho finally answered, not looking at Thomas. “I don’t believe I know who you are?” He sized Thomas from top to bottom, clearly not pleased with what he saw. Newt had a hard time not gaping. He was also a bit embarrassed since he’d just kissed a man he hadn’t know the name of.

“Thomas,” Thomas said slowly, probably evaluated the situation. Minho just nodded once, like he didn’t really care and caught Newt’s eye instead.

“So, you were saying about your job?” Minho asked and Newt had to swallow before replying.

“Uhm, yeah, that we’ve just been closing this really big deal, so everyone wanted to celebrate.”

“What was the deal about?” Minho’s expression was soft when he looked at him and Newt found himself wishing that wasn’t part of the act.

“I’ll just...” Thomas jumped in and said, looking displeased with life and waving a hand in between them. Newt barley gave him the time to end the sentence before returning his full attention to Minho. “Go back to my date,” he finished and then he was walking away, shaking his head. Newt felt how fast his heart beat, he felt it in his eyes, his tongue, his toes, his elbows. Minho didn’t let go of his hand. It didn’t help his heart. Minho snickered and Newt had no choice but to join him. He’d never been able to shut Thomas out like that before. It felt liberating.

"I'm Minho by the way," Minho whispered and discreetly held his hand out, for real this time. Newt took it. Already missed the touch over his knuckles.

"Newt."

"Newt? So not Isaac? You're actually Newt? _The_ Newt? I've heard your name been thrown here and there. No one told me you were good looking."

“Well, I guess not a lot of people see it that way.”

“Oh, common now, don’t sell yourself short!” Minho looked at him expectedly again. Newt sucked his own lips into his mouth and pressed down on them, but nodded once. Minho grinned, pleased.

They talked for a while longer, Newt really enjoying himself and Minho looked to have a good time as well. The one drink he was supposed to have turned into four and he’d totally forgotten about his co-workers before a couple of them came up and bid their goodbyes. He brought out his phone to see that it was almost half past one in the morning. Wouldn’t believe it at first, but the time didn’t jump backwards, only ticked a minute forward. It was a long time ago since he was even out after midnight.

“I probably need to leave,” Newt said reluctantly. There was some sort of bubble around them, that made him want to stay.

“Want me to come with you?” Minho said it casually but looked at him with anticipation.

“Ehm…” He didn’t know what to say. Sure, he would totally like a piece of _that_ but he hadn’t been with anyone for months. He’d only known this dude for what, a couple of hours now? And despite the fact that he was one of the most gorgeous men alive and seemed to actually be really into Newt (however that could’ve happened) there was just some things Newt didn’t do. Like sleep with guys he just met. Or have one night stands. Or have sex at all for that matter. Maybe he should. Just because.

“I mean, if you don’t want more, I can just follow you out and then we can go separate ways. Just to show,” he nodded towards the booth Thomas was still seated in, “that you’re really over him.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“To what suggestion?”

Newt hesitated. “Last one.”

“Okay,” Minho said and looked pretty happy with that. Newt breathed out. Minho slung a leather jacket over his shoulder, one that Newt hadn’t even noticed was hanging over Minho’s chair, and held his hand out to Newt. His breath hitched. He intertwined his fingers with Minho’s at the same time as he stood up and pushed his chair in. He stumbled after Minho who kept his gaze at either the door or Newt. They walked past Thomas, who raised his eyebrow at the sight of them and Newt managed to give him a smug smile.

Then he clung to Minho and whispered, “Thank you,” in his ear. He laughed like Newt was the funniest thing in the world, and they grinned at one another when they left, slamming the door behind them. Newt hadn’t even looked back to see Thomas’s face. It felt like victory. Minho made him spin around by leading him through an easy dance move. Newt laughed and also stopped suddenly. Minho had him lightly pressed against the wall of the bar they’d just exited. He was staring at Newt’s lips. Newt gulped.

“May I?” Minho asked and his eyes flickered up to meet Newt’s. Newt couldn’t bloody well deny him. He’d barley said _yes_ before Minho was kissing him. Hot and hungry. Newt accidentally moaned and it made Minho gasp and step closer. Newt tangled his fingers through Minho’s hair and Minho grabbed at his waist like he might slip if he didn’t. This was not really a part of Newt’s plan. They were supposed to go separate ways. _Are_ supposed to go separate ways, he corrected himself. But he kissed Minho as eagerly as the other man kissed him. Minho was the one to step back after what felt like an eternity compressed into about four seconds.

“I need your number,” Minho said matter of factly.

“You can have my phone.” Newt said breathlessly and Minho laughed.

“I think that’d be counter productive,” he said and Newt felt himself flush. He recited his number when Minho got his phone up.

“Isaac or Newt?”

“Newt,” Newt said with emphasis, “only my parents call me Isaac.”

“And… _Tommy_ ,” Minho said, tone a bit mockingly but it sounded like it was directed towards Thomas.

“Yeah, okay, my parents and fuckheads.” Minho laughed and gave Newt a peck on his cheek.

“I’ll call you,” he said and waved a cab. Newt waved when Minho stepped in and wished with all his heart that Minho wasn’t one of those guy who said they’d call and never did.


	2. A year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing here, Tommy?” Newt asked in a sigh, wanted to change the Tommy that slipped out to Thomas. Thomas gave him a miserable look.  
> “I miss you,” he cooed. It made Newt almost lose his balance. How many times haden’t he wanted Thomas to tell him those exact words? How many times had he lain in bed, wishing Thomas would just be there with him beacuse of that exact reason?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) who wanted Jealous!Thomas and internaly-screaming-YESNOYESNO!Newt here we are! 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language

So Minho didn’t call. It wasn’t like Newt was all that surprised. There had been too many guys he’d flirted with, been flirted with that had gotten his number and the percentage that actually used it was pretty low. It’d been a week and if Minho had actually wanted to see him, he would’ve called by now. It stinged. Because it was the first time in forever since somebody had looked at him like he was actually worth the time. Like he was someone desirable. So he sulked a little, who was gonna blame him? He hadn’t been kissed in a year, almost a year, and the guy had wanted to kiss him, wanted to call him, wanted to take him home. Newt should’ve just gone with him when he had had the chance. He’d just thought that Minho actually had liked him and hadn’t just been looking for a shag, since Newt had done literally nothing to make him believe he could take him home. Except maybe the kissing outside of the bar, but Minho had been the one to break that off and walk away. With Newt’s number. And then he hadn’t called.

He stayed in that Friday, a week later. In his PJ:s, watched the newly released Jessica Jones on Netflix and filled his stomach with take out and Ben & Jerry’s. By some reason he found himself eating a spoon of ice cream and then a bit of his noodles and then the ice cream again. It was quite a nice combo.

He’d just finished the last of his food when there was a knock on the door. He frowned. Alby was out of town, Gally out with friends and Winston didn’t know where he lived. Those three guys was pretty much the ones from work he could call his friends. The others might be associates, but none of them would knock at his door this late a Friday night. He stumbled up and out the hall. There was now loud banging, Newt slowed down. There was just no way he’d even open to someone that aggressive.

“Isaac! C'mon, open up will ya?” Now Newt stopped dead in his tracks. _Thomas_. What the hell did he want? Come to gloat in the fact that Newt had once again been stood up? Not that Thomas knew that of course, he thought Newt had gotten his action from Minho already. Newt wasn’t going to let him believe anything else. He took the remaining steps towards the door and opened it slightly as Thomas was about to slam his fist to it again. The man looked shocked, drunk and messy.

“What are you doing here, Tommy?” Newt asked in a sigh, wanted to change the "Tommy" that slipped out to a "Thomas". Thomas gave him a miserable look.

“I miss you,” he cooed. It made Newt almost lose his balance. How many times haden’t he wanted Thomas to tell him those exact words? How many times had he lain in bed, wishing Thomas would just be there with him because of that exact reason?

“I miss you, so I wanned to see you, be with you.” Thomas stumbled over the words and it wasn’t because he talked too fast. He’d had too much to drink, usually came back to Newt when he’d had too much. When he couldn’t get anyone else.

“Lemme in?” Thomas asked softly. The anger didn’t overpower the sudden need to be near Thomas again, the need to feel wanted and not alone. Newt opened the door and Thomas staggered in. Newt didn’t even know if he regretted it when the other man crowded him. But he had the decency to step back.

“Thomas...” he pleaded weakly.

“Please,” Thomas whispered and stepped forward again. “Please, I want you, I want you back.” Newt choked. Decided that it had definitely not been a good idea to let this man inside his apartment. He was backed up against the wall, reminding him very much of last Friday but when this dark haired man maneuvered himself into Newt’s personal space, he didn’t ask for permission. He just kissed him, like it was something he was entitled to. It was sloppy and terrible and amazing. Newt was screaming internally. He didn’t want it to be anywhere near good but this was _Tommy_ , it would always be good with him. Starved, he kissed back. It took him almost half a minute before he pushed Thomas away.

“Thomas,” he said and this time he put effort behind the name, made it into a warning.

“Isaac, baby, I just want you, I don’t want you to be with anyone but me.” The statement sounded plain and simple but it made Newt’s mood sour. He didn’t want Newt to be with anyone else? But he could sleep with half the town? Fuck him. When Thomas tried to kiss him again, he turned his head and Thomas didn’t seem to understand the gesture since he only started to pepper him with chaste pecks on his neck instead.

“Stop,” Newt croaked, body stiff. Thomas looked him in the eye. Pupils dilated and mouth open and inviting.

“You’re supposed to be mine,” he states. Newt snarled.

“I’m not, Thomas, I haven’t been yours for a year. Never will be again.” Thomas cupped his face and gently brushed his other hand over Newt’s arm. It sent shivers down his spine and he relaxed into the touches.

“But I’ll be better, I’ll make you feel good,” Thomas tried and Newt fell for it. Only a minute more, only one more time, he told himself. Let Thomas kiss him again, groaned as their body’s rubbed against each other.

“I’ll make you feel better than...” Thomas muttered and that’s what broke the spell again. This was nothing to Thomas. This was his stupid type of revenge on a guy that hadn’t even touched Newt. This was Thomas being the petty little shit he’d always been. _I can have it all but you can’t have anymore than I allow._ Totally fuckedy-fuck him.

“Get out,” Newt requested, as kindly as he could manage. Didn’t even know why he bothered before he saw the look in Thomas’ eyes. Oh, that was why, Thomas was a mean drunk.

“So you can sleep with that ugly ass rice kid but not with me? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Please leave,” Newt said and snaked his way out of Thomas’s arms. Thomas grabbed his arm and made Newt stumble.

“No, really? You let that bitch fuck you but you’re going to turn down the man who saved you?” The breath is knocked out of Newt, the words cuts like knives and he sees white. There is suddenly a searing pain in his head, not by any physical reasons. He hadn’t thought about _that_ for a long time. Hadn’t wanted to go back and find himself on the bottom again, afraid that a trip back memory lane might get him stuck in the driveway. He didn't know what to say. Thomas had helped him, maybe even saved him those first few weeks. Made him stay alive, but it wasn’t like Thomas had ever done anything beside take a broken puppy in and build him up with the promise of love and affection to later shatter said puppy when it turned out he wasn’t really anything but a secure shag. And even if Thomas had cared for him once, that was not the case nowadays.

“Tommy, please don’t. Please, let go of me,” Newt whispered. This wasn’t even Thomas being jealous of what he thought Minho had gotten, this was Thomas being pissed about being ignored. Rejected, not being first choice. Newt had stayed with Thomas too long. Had not wanted to see what was going on when he was home alone, had not wanted to understand what the late nights and bad lies meant. He wasn’t going to let himself get back to that place, he wasn’t going to let Thomas take advantage of him anymore.

“If you’re just gonna whore yourself out, I thought you’d at least pick some decent men.”

“You know what,” Newt snapped, “I can sleep with whoever I fucking want, alright? And I don’t want to sleep with you. I don’t want to be your second choice, or third, or fifteenth. I deserve to be someone’s first choice.”

“You’ll never be anyone's first choice.” Newt flinched. Thomas looked at him with so much conviction that Newt couldn’t make himself retort. Everything hurt and all he wanted was to lie in his bed and cry till the morning. He didn’t cry. Yet. He didn’t allow himself, not until Thomas left. Thomas finally let go of him, but was still looking like a crazed out coyote. He scoffed.

“And it’s not like there’s much to get here anyway,” he snarled while he inspected Newt’s body. It made Newt feel self conscious and naked. “You can’t even walk straight.”

Thomas turned on his heel then, left Newt to fall back and slither down the wall, wipe at his burning tears and scream at the silence. He told himself that Thomas knew all his buttons, but it only made him feel worse because Thomas knew where to push, to make him feel like utter shit because Newt had told him where they all were. Once upon a time, he’d believed Thomas would never have used any of them against him. Today was not the first time he had, but it had been such a long time since he had used so many at once. Newt hadn’t been prepared, he’d just been thrown back a year in his life and he wasn’t sure how to get back to 2015. He thought of the cute guy from the bar. Thought of his eager lips, his sweet eyes and the way he’d said _hello, gorgeous_ like he’d meant it. It didn’t help in the fucking slightest.


	3. Fifty-three weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The text arrived on early Sunday morning. Newt didn’t see it till Sunday evening when he managed to get out of bed and make himself some tea and forced down a sandwich. He stared at it. It made him want to throw up the few things he’d gotten down his thoat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so amazed at all the comments I have recived, it's so lovely of you to take the time to do that. It's highly treasured. So thank you. Here's the continuation! 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

He spent the better part of Saturday propped up against his bedroom wall, staring down a bottle of Jack. (The worst part of it: actually chugging too much of the content.)

He'd picked up the phone and tapped Thomas’s number onto the screen six times. Applauded himself for being such a total fuck up and managed to never press the green call button. Never called. Just like that other shithead. Newt’s life seemed to contain of those. People who didn't _really_ care when it all boiled down to it. He'd though about calling Alby, he usually listened and came with great advice on stuff he knew nothing about, but he was also one of the most socially active people Newt had ever met. There was probably two gallery openings he had planned to attend today, four city's over or something. The other two guys from work, Newt didn't even consider.

_“I’ve felt bad all week for not calling you...There have been chaos at work, I know it’s a bad excuse and that I literally have no right to ask, but can I please call you today? Minho”_

The text arrived on early Sunday morning. Newt didn’t see it untill Sunday evening when he managed to get out of bed and make himself some tea and forced down a sandwich. He stared at it. It made him want to throw up the few things he’d gotten down his throat.

The weekend had past him without him noticing. That wasn't exactly true, he'd noticed alright. He just hadn't understood. This wasn’t one of his downward spirals, Newt knew. It usually was different. At least that was what he told himself when he refused to leave the bed. Couldn’t manage to leave the bed more like it. He felt drained and numb and the memory of Thomas’s words stung and the ghost feeling of Thomas’s lips on his own was burning. He wanted so much to be happy Minho had contacted him, but it all felt like a desperate attempt to get something Newt didn’t want to give anymore. He should just have stayed under the covers.

But this wasn’t him getting down. This was just a bloody weekend that was going to end. Feeling like the world played a stupid joke on him, he typed a reply.

_“I am not interested.”_

He waited a couple of more hours before he sent it. But he did. Send it. The answer came immediately.

_“Okay. I’m really sorry. If you would ever change your mind, you have my number. Minho”_

The phone was close to be thrown into the floor. Why the fuck must the charming man he’d kissed also be so fucking polite? He didn’t text anything back. Just sloped down against the headboard of his bed and started crying again.

It was a good sign. It made him realise he wasn’t numb, it made him remember that feelings were okay, just because he managed to express them. The tears were angry, they were miserable, the were desperate. But they belonged to him. They were Newt’s to cry, they were Newt’s to wipe away and no matter how hopeless things felt, Newt could find solace in them. He set the alarm for the next morning, believing that he might actually be able to go to work.

He looked at his phone. It was two days ago Minho had texted him. He didn’t care. He had given him blanket permission to text if he wanted to. He wasn't exactly sure he did want to. He'd gone to work but requested half days for the entire week. Since he didn't do anything but run that damn business, they'd had to grant him the free time. He’d been working too hard, for too long anyway. Hadn’t taken any sick days or vacation days for over a year and even though he’d taken a lot of them in the past, there was just so much a person could handle. He’d even worked over-time most weeks, burrowing himself in work as a classic coping mechanism. It had worked.

Glade Inc. specialised in computer defense programming. Basically, it meant that they built coded mazes for companies private servers and websites. They were the large walls people wanted put up around their secret stuff and didn’t let anyone in, or out. Newt had always been good with computers, coding and problem solving. He’d been the youngest employee, racing in at twenty-one and the first Chief Operating Officer under the age of 25. A position he gladly held because the money was good, and he actually got to run most of the daily affairs. Coding was still his biggest passion but he managed the leadership quite well, especially with Alby and Gally at his side.

With a Starbucks’ in his hand, on his way from the office, he typed a message on his phone. He’d found himself disgusted with the thought of Thomas’s lips on his and tried his hardest to remember Minho’s instead. It’d been a faint glow around the memory, like it buzzed and somehow wanted _out_. Newt figured he only wanted more. He thought that maybe he could want more. Maybe that was allowed.  

_“I’m in a bad place. I need time.”_

The message was sent before he could make himself stop it. He held his breath and stared at the phone till it buzzed a reply.

_“That’s okay. No pressure.”_

It sounded like... not really like a _promise_ , but an indication, that Minho actually would wait for Newt to be ready. That was all he really needed, to be honest. He didn’t care if Minho would go and fuck seventeen guys a night as long as he would be _there_ when Newt could. It was a bit terrifying that he relied so much on the words of an almost stranger. Last time he’d done that, it hadn’t ended very well.

_“I can always try and blow the pain away.”_

Newt snorted loudly at that. He had to stop walking, read the message over and over until it made him laugh out loud, almost sit down on the side walk and howl. There was people staring at him, but he couldn’t stop. He fell into a deep chuckle when the next two messages appeared.

_“I’m sorry, that was highly inappropriate. Shit.”_

_“Sorry.”_

Inappropriate or not, that was one of those things Newt wanted to print and put on his freezer to look at when he was gloomy.

_“It made me laugh. Haven’t even cracked a smile in days.”_

He was being extremely honest with this man. But he figured he’d been that since the beginning and it wasn’t like he could start lying now. Maybe it would scare off the bloke eventually, to know that Newt was even more screwed up then he appeared, but it was nice not having to put on a brave face and pretend that there wrern't things in his brain that kept eating at him.

_“Still, way out of line.”_

Newt thought about _lines_. On how much just those had been controlling him for a very long time. How he had no boundaries regarding how people treated him, but a fair amount of rules he applied to himself. How he would let Thomas snap at him but never bite back. How he’d let supposed friends push him around but never allow himself to be impolite. His colleagues were stepping into his guard, with their lack of understanding for him not actually wanting to come with them. He hadn’t even thought about it, but now he wished they would just leave him alone when he didn’t want to come. But he did want to come nowadays. That’s what they thought, because he never told them no. He told them fine. He told them okay. It really wasn’t. He needed to cross his own fucking lines and leave them behind.

_“I might need a bit of tiptoeing over it.”_

_“Whenever you’re ready.”_

In retrospective, the way they both had phrased it made it sound dirty. In a totally great way. He really wanted to cross that particular line with Minho too.

_“I’ll call you.”_

_“I hope that doesn’t turn out like my promise did.”_

_“You texted.”_

_“I should’ve called.”_

He started to like the guy. Not that he didn’t like him before, but there was just the way he sounded (can you sound through text?) so sincere and actually felt bad for not picking up the phone.

_“Don’t dwell, we’re talking.”_

_“My boss is staring at me, I have to go.”_

_“I’ll call.”_

He typed again. Wasn’t sure whether to send it but did anyway. He put the phone back in his pocket and hobbled home. He threw away the now empty liquor bottle, found it on the floor of the bathroom, and made himself a home cooked meal. Didn’t have very much in his fridge, but he managed to pull off a chili. It tasted fine. What was even better was Minho’s last reply.

_“I hope you do.”_

And there was no bloody way Newt weren’t gonna call. When he was ready.


	4. 12, 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really thought he needed time. But when his fingers itched for his phone every waken moment that he wasn’t highly engrossed in work, he just gave in.  
>  _“This is Minho, to whom I’m I speaking?”_  
>  “Ehm, hi, it’s Newt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be two chapters uploaded today, the fifth is already written. Just gonna do a spell check and have some lunch before you get it. Thank you for the support and to [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) for giving me the most amazing prompts and ideas <3 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

He really thought he needed time. But when his fingers itched for his phone every waken moment that he wasn’t highly engrossed in work, he just gave in.

_“This is Minho, to whom I’m I speaking?”_

“Ehm, hi, it’s Newt.”

_“Newt! Hi! You called!”_ His tone sounded high pitched and slightly disbelieving. 

Newt felt himself squirm and ask, a little too despairing for his own liking, “Yeah, that was the plan, right?”

_“The original plan was actually for me to call, but since I had the worst week of grading little shits and parent-teacher conferences, I repeatedly pushed it forward until I was too embarrassed to make that happen.”_ Minho even sounded embarrassed as he said the words. Newt didn't want him to be, so he brushed it off.

“You’re a teacher?” he offered instead, a thing he wouldn't have guessed upon Minho in a million years.

_“Yep, you surprised? Thought I was a gigolo, did ya?”_

“No! I was just...”

_“I do have the looks for it.”_

“Indeed,” Newt agreed quietly. He remembered plush lips and a pair of strong eyebrows and a sharp jaw and astonishing black hair and he wouldn’t even start on the arms. He drifted away slightly in the thoughts of the man he was talking to, wished he could be seated in front of him instead of being wherever he was now.

_“So, date me.”_ There was no way Newt had heard it wrong but he still whimpered _what_ into the phone as he gripped it more tightly.

_“I’m hot, you’re hot, we should date.”_ Newt’s face burned. He wasn’t getting used to the fact that this man actually thought he was good looking. He was pretty happy he wasn’t out for this conversation, that he instead sat on his own couch, because some looks wasn’t really meant for the public’s eye. He didn’t know what to answer.

“O-okay,” he finally stammered.

_“When?”_ The question wasn’t asked as if in a rush, rather just eager. Eager to see him and to know when that would be possible. Newt felt like fainting.

“Whenever,” Newt said honestly. He could _hear_ that Minho was grinning.

~~

“Are you gay?” Was the first question Minho asked when they had sat down in a quiet café not even two hours later. Newt stared at him for a while before he answered.

“I… I am here, on a date with you?”

“Well,” Minho said, leaning slightly forward across the table, “I’m also here, and I’m not gay, so.”

“You’re not-”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he laughed, holding a hand up. “I’m not gay, but I _am_ bi. Some people… don’t really stick around after I tell them that.” He looked at Newt like he was expecting him to get up and do just that, leave. But Newt was so freaking happy that this wasn’t just some sort of elaborated prank and that Minho actually was interested in him, that he just flashed his teeth.

“You’re probably better off without those people,” he said and took a sip at his coffee.

“You’re probably right,” Minho said and leaned back in his chair, settled himself in. The questions they shot back and forth after that wasn’t as scary. _What’s your favorite movie? What kind of food do you like? Who’s your biggest inspiration?_ Minho’s answers shocked Newt over and over. _Mean Girls, that movie is the best thing that has ever happened to this world, I really have a sweet spot for quinoa, always have, there’s this dude called Misha Collins, whom I’ve looked up to the past few years, you know about him? No? Well, he’s an actor but he’s just such a down to earth guy, genuine really and he does all this really amazing charity work. I wish I could be more like him._ Newt really couldn’t understand why Minho’s answers shocked him. Maybe because they sounded like they could be total “I’m fucking with you”s but so clearly wasn’t. Newt had mostly made Minho talk but now Minho wanted to know stuff too. _Are you interested in any sports? Where did you grow up? (Love the accent by the way.) Why do you want to be called Newt instead of Isaac?_ Newt tried to apologize when he made clear that he wasn’t interested in sports what so ever, because Minho seemed to take sports, at least baseball, very seriously. Minho just waved a hand and muttered that he at least wasn’t a Phillies-fan and that always counted for something (apparently The New York Mets was the team Newt now was a supporter of). He told Minho about Scotland and that they’d come to the States when Newt was eleven.

“Science was my favorite subject growing up and I never really liked Isaac,” he explained about the nickname. “So when my friends started calling me Newton, you know, because my real name actually is Isaac, it kind of stuck. Got shortened to Newt after a couple of weeks, no one seemed to have time for the whole thing.” He laughed and fingered on his drink.

“It suits you,” Minho said and for the fourteenth time, Newt blushed. He was glad when Minho didn’t ask why Thomas insisted on calling him Isaac and instead totally changed the subject. “So what do you do at this successful company you're working on?”

Newt went into an elaborated explanation of what he usually did and what the company was all about and Minho stared at him like he’d started talking another language. Intrigued and trying to follow, but didn’t understand shit. Newt laughed nervously and tried a different approach. “I'm… like the glue. The one that keeps everything together. Makes sure everything runs smoothly.”

“You're the boss then?” Minho asked, sounding impressed. And like he actually understood the words that came out of Newt’s mouth. Which he also was looking at more and more.

“Well, not really, but I'm not the furthest person down the hierarchy.”

“So you're some people's boss?” Minho wiggled his eyebrows.

“Maybe a hundred,” he said as casually as he could manage.

“I really scored here,” Minho said pleased on a happy sigh as he laid a hand on top of one of Newt's. Newt stared at the hand, the fingers that had started to caress his knuckles just like in the bar. He stared at Minho’s eyes after that. Hid his mouth and stupid grin behind his other hand.

When Minho kissed him goodbye a couple hours later, it was sweet and promising. Even if he’d been gazing at Newt’s lips most of the last hour, he seemed to be content with just the one kiss. He said he'd call this time and it had made Newt smile when he did (just as he'd disappeared around the corner and asked for a second date immediately).


	5. Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt immobile. Just a press on his body that didn't seem to want to let him up, not even when the door bell rang and he _knew_ it was Minho.  
>  “Newt?” Minho’s voices sounded brisk and concerned. He didn't say anything, but Minho found him just half a minute later after looking through the kitchen and the living room.  
> “There you are,” he said on an exhale as he leaned against the door frame. “Just the man I was looking for.” Newt didn't answer this either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah okay, so this fic has now reached over 10 000 written words (only 8224 uploaded so far but still) and it was suppossed to have landed somewhere around 2000. That is just mindblowingly awesome and you guys that read it is also awesome and [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) is awsome too. Next chapter isn't written yet, even if seven is and eight is almost half finished. Yeah, and eight is also (probably) the final amount of chapters there will be! 
> 
> Thanks again for the positive comments! 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

He felt immobile. Just a press on his body that didn't seem to want to let him up, not even when the door bell rang and he _knew_ it was Minho. It didn't help, he just stared at the white paint in his bedroom and didn't get up.

“Newt?” Minho’s voices sounded brisk and concerned. There wasn't really another explanations for how the other man could've entered his apartment except that Newt must have forgotten to lock the door. He didn't say anything, but Minho found him just half a minute later after looking through the kitchen and the living room.

“There you are,” he said on an exhale as he leaned against the door frame. “Just the man I was looking for.” Newt didn't answer this either. Minho dropped his leather jacket on the stool by the window before cracking said window open. Just a bit, but enough so that Newt felt like he was breathing in another universe when he inhaled. Minho wasn't acting like he didn't understand that Newt was… not really present, he acted like it didn’t either scare or annoy him. Like he still enjoyed being there. He even hummed. It was something that triggered recognizion inside of Newt, it sounded so familiar, but he didn’t know what song it was. It still felt empowering. Minho fetched him a glass of water and placed it by the bed as he himself sat down next to Newt. The covers rustled and it sounded like needles was pressed into his ear drums. He scrunched his face.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” Minho said with a small smile. Newt looked at him and tried smiling, but it felt more like he grimaced.

“May I?” A couple of Minho’s fingers rested in the air above his face, he closed his eyes and tipped his head a bit forward. It wasn’t really a nod, but it was suppossed to be and that was how Minho interpereted it. The fingers brushed carefully over his face and it wasn’t like Minho thought Newt would break if he put more pressure, it was like Minho wanted to touch him just like that. Soft and with no other intention than having a little bit of human contact. It didn’t last long, but he neither missed the touch when Minho retrived his hand nor wished he hand’t let him touch from the beginning. Minho got up and walked out of the room. Newt thought he would leave and a sting of longing hit him. To his surprise, he only heard faint noises as Minho moved around in the apartment, in the kitchen. He came back a few minutes later, poked a head in and asked:

“Do you want me to make you something? I’m an outstanding cook. You don’t have to say anything, just nod me a yes or a no.” The statements surprised Newt. Well, sure he didn’t know Minho could cook, but that last bit. Whenever Newt would have an episode like this, Thomas would just sigh, get cranky for an hour to then tell Newt that he’d be out for the night and leave. He nodded _yes_ even though he wasn’t feeling hungry.

They had gone out a few times since the first date, stayed in a couple of those times. Brought take out and watched a movie in the comfort of Newt’s own walls. He’d told Minho as it was the first time he felt like running away, that sometimes he just couldn’t be around other people and needed his space. Minho had just shrugged and asked if he wanted to be completley alone or if it was okay for him to come with him home. Newt had made him watch _The Imitation Game_ , sitting on one end of the couch each. Minho hadn’t complained and cried when they cracked Enigma. It had been wonderfull.

It turned out Minho was an _amazing_ cook because the things he brought Newt - Newt wasn’t even sure what it was, but it looked like some sort of small pizzas? - was delicious, even in his state of mind.

“I’m going to tap you a bath,” Minho stated when Newt had made himself eat a few of the snacks. “Any objections?” Newt made half an attempt of a shrug and Minho smiled, large. Minho pet his head lightly a few times before disapearing.

It wasn’t a humiliating experience to get undressed by Minho. It was rahter intriguing actually (as intrigued Newt could muster to be), how he could manage to do it so very smooth and careless when Newt just stood limp on the bathroom floor. Newt got in the tub by his own machine and the water was pleasantly hot. Minho sat down in front of him but on the floor fully clothed, back against the wall so they were facing each other if Newt just turned his head sligtly to the left.

“I was thinking about talking for a while, feel free to join in or not,” Minho said before going into a one sided conversation with himself. He talked mostly about his day at work, handling stubborn, fifteen year old kids in P.E, but soon he sweeped into stories from his childhood and his first experience with a guy.

“I didn’t think I was gay, you know? There had been quite a few girls by that time and I had definitly liked it, so when I met this bloke, Ben, I was kind of stunned. Thought that I was just confusing friendship with actual romantic feelings. Turned out, when I jumped into bed with him that I really liked that too.” He chuckled.

“I’ve dated a few girls since then, but men is just more… my thing. Still don’t concider myself gay though. And not that men are the best ones at relationships, jesus. Like with Ben, that was just a shit storm waiting to happen. He was jealous as a git and thought I slept around, when I barley even know how to flirt with folks yet. He threw a curling iron at me once.” Newt snorted quietly, Minho grinned.

“Don’t know where he got that from, because his hair was already curly.” He laughed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“I had no idea what to expect going into that relationship, but it certenly wasn’t _that_.”

“This is how it's gonna be with me, at times, if you're interested in staying." It’s the only thing he managed to say throuout the whole day, for the rest of the evening. Minho just looked at him from the floor and smiled cautiosly. But he stayed. Leaned his head on the radiator and closed his eyes, resumed singing quietly on the song that Newt couldn’t place. He stayed, like he didn’t want to leave. And Newt realised that that might have actually been them defining their relationship. Like it was a realtionship.

“My sister was clinically depressed,” Minho said after a long while. “I’m not saying you are, I don’t know that, but you bare a lot of signs of it.” Newt put his hand up on the edge of the bathtub to get Minho to look at him. When their eyes met, he nodded and grimaced as to say _I fit the bill_. Minho nodded too.  

“I don’t know what it’s like myself but I learned a few things that helped her, at least a little. She told me that sometimes the only thing that made her open her eyes was because I came in a talked to her for a while.” Newt thought of the open window and the conversation he wasn’t obligated to join, of the glass of water and the mini pizzas and Minho’s humming. Small things, that indeed made a big diffrence.

Minho slept next to Newt that night. Not close or against, on the other side of the bed. It was a perfect first sleepover. He felt safe and understood, he felt like Minho would’ve already left if he had wanted to leave. When he woke up, there was still a blanket weighing him down, but it felt like it was made of lighter material than the day before. Minho snored softly.

“What song did you sing last night?” Newt asked in hushed tones when Minho woke up. He smiled a little.

“It’s just from a stupid TV-show my sister used to watch,” Minho answered, rubbing the sleep from his face.

“But I regonized it, what was it?”

“Kansas,” Minho said, “ _Carry on my wayward son_.”


	6. Seven days to go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He tried to not care about the uptick in interactions Thomas made with him via social media. Pokes on Facebook, likes on Instagram, various sorts of snapchats. He didn’t exactly hide it from Minho, but he didn’t tell him either. It was like Thomas tried to nestle his way back into being a constant fixture in Newt’s life and it took him a while to realise that he’d let him. He poked back, answered the snaps and found himself going through Thomas’s twitter feed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I wrote another chapter today. And I literally have two more. But I'll upload them tomorrow.  
> It's setteled that this story will have 8 chapters :) 
> 
> Big thanks to [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) for being awesome and loving my shit <3
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

He tried to not care about the uptick in interactions Thomas made with him via social media. Pokes on Facebook, likes on Instagram, various sorts of snapchats. He didn’t exactly hide it from Minho, but he didn’t tell him either. It was like Thomas tried to nestle his way back into being a constant fixture in Newt’s life and it took him a while to realise that he’d let him. He poked back, answered the snaps and found himself going through Thomas’s twitter feed.

He wasn’t at all surprised when he then ran into Thomas an early evening when he got a coffee after work. Thomas seemed to find his way through Newt’s neighborhood a lot more often whenever he went on one of these… escapades.

It had taken Newt quite a while to realise that first of all, running into Thomas in places Newt usually visited, wasn’t an accident and second of all, it was not normal or appropriate behavior. There was a fine line that Thomas was playing with, on one side was pining and the other stalking.

“Isaac!” he said, like he had _no idea_ this was the place Newt always went to after work.

“Thomas,” Newt acknowledged him, glancing at the cup in his hand. He had nice hands. _Focus_. He ordered his coffee and started tapping the counter top.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Thomas said, looking down at his spastic fingers, like he felt guilty for not trying sooner, when Newt spared him a glance.

“I’m sure you have,” Newt said coldly. He hadn’t sat down. Just wanted to get his coffee and leave. Minho was coming over.

“You’re not mad are you? I was drunk, I didn’t mean it.” 

Newt snapped and stepped up to Thomas. “What? What didn’t you mean, Thomas? That I’m undesirable? That my limp is ugly? Did you not mean to be racist? To be a fucking asshole? I think you have to be a little bit more specific.”

“Isaac… You know I was just hammered.” His puppy eyes were extreme. His stupid moles and upturned nose didn’t make it easier for Newt to not just fall into his arms. The barista coughed lightly. Newt’s order had been placed in front of him and he gave the barista the money he owed and she gave him a smile. He smiled back. It made him stronger somehow.

“Yeah? And that justifies everything then?” he asked after he’d turned back to Thomas. It really didn’t. Thomas always found reasons to be an ass. Newt was having a really hard time to remember what had been so good with the two of them together.

“I’m trying to apologize here,” Thomas said, leaning forward and looking around. Newt scrunched his nose. Maybe he was talking to loud for Thomas’s liking, but Thomas hadn’t really been trying to say he was sorry. Newt wanted to leave.

“I thought you just came with excuses.”

“Now you’re not being fair, Isaac.”

“Stop calling me that.” 

That made Thomas flinch back. “What?”

“I said, stop calling me Isaac. It’s Newt.” And just as he said it, the name was called behind him. He turned and Thomas leaned over to see who’d just come through the door. Minho of course.

“Everything alright?” he asked when he came up to the other men. He placed a light hand on Newt’s waist and Newt wanted to kiss him senseless right there and then. But he just nodded and Minho did too.

“I came a little earlier and you weren’t home, so I guessed,” he said before kissing Newt’s temple. He’d aimed the words to Newt but looked at Thomas. Thomas looked a bit stricken.

“You’re… dating?” he managed to force out of himself. It looked physically straining and Newt smiled.

“We’re a couple, yes,” Minho said, challenging Thomas’s gaze (which faltered). Newt wanted to stare at Minho, he’d said that like it was the truth and he wondered desperately if that was the case.

“And we’re leaving now,” Newt said and picked up his coffee. He grabbed Minho’s hand. He looked over the counter, the barista quickly looked away with an embarrassed smile. She did a thumbs up and Newt felt his ears turn red.

“See you around then,” Thomas said.

“I highly doubt that,” Newt retorted and then he marched out with Minho in hand.

“ _That_ was amazing,” Minho laughed when the door behind them closed. He jumped around Newt in a circle and Newt had to smile wildly. “Did you see his face?” Minho did an exaggerated impression that made Newt snort and spit coffee everywhere. He cleared his throat.

“You should’ve seen when I told him he couldn’t call me Isaac,” he said and kicked some gravel. Minho looked like he really would’ve wanted to have been there.

“Why does he insist on doing that if you don’t like it?” 

They were outside of Newt’s door. He dropped his keys to the floor and Minho picked them up. Putting them carefully in Newt’s hand again as he said, “You absolutely don’t have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“He thinks it’s his name.” Minho’s expression was only confused. “He was the only one who got to use it, because it felt good when he did. So he thinks it’s still his name to use.” 

It had been Thomas’. Once. For years. It had sounded sweet on his lips; nowadays it sounded just as sour from him as it did anyone else. The name had been their little thing, that no one else were part of, something that Thomas would whisper in his ear on early mornings or when Newt made him feel good in bed. Whenever he used it around other people, it was more of a nickname rather than what he was actually called and everyone they knew, knew not to use it themselves. 

It was what Newt had told him he was called when Thomas had found him.

They entered the apartment and Newt felt how his legs were giving up. He scrambled down on the floor just inside the door, Minho squatting beside him, a soft hand around his neck.

“Easy,” Minho said. Newt hadn’t thought about these things in quite a while. He grasped at Minho’s shirt.

“I tried… I tried to...”

“I get it,” Minho whispered.

“Once, and he found me.” Newt didn’t know why he revealed this now, he just wanted Minho to know, to understand. They sat in the hall way for hours. Newt talked at times, poured words out like vomit for a couple of minutes and then shut up for half an hour. Minho held him, soothed and listened. When Newt asked him to talk, he did. Told him stories about the his childhood cat and how his first room mate had been a total stoner and done some pretty stupid shit. Newt didn’t know how to thank Minho for everything so he just hugged him as hard as he could and held him for as long as he was able manage. Minho pressed back and told him everything was okay.


	7. Restart the counter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho didn’t push for sex, so they hadn’t had any. Even if Newt wanted to take things pretty slow, there was a limit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sexsexsexsexexsex
> 
> No but on a serious note, thank you so much for following this story, the feedback is amazing. I love you all. [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) is my rock in this, thank you also. 
> 
> ONLY ONE CHAPTER TO GO!
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

Minho didn’t push for sex, so they hadn’t had any. They’d been dating for over a month and Minho had been a literal angel. After the night they’d sat in the hallway, Newt had just accepted that Minho wasn’t going anywhere. And even if Newt wanted to take things pretty slow, there was a limit. After the over dozen dates (excluding the times they’d actually stayed the night) they’d been on and everything Minho had done for him, he was not really interested in going snail speed any longer. Thankfully there had been heated make out sessions on the couch, hard-ons that Minho could’ve never hid, and so Newt knew that Minho was probably just waiting for the green light.

“I think we should… have sex,” Newt said and wasn’t able to stop the blush that rushed to his cheeks. They had just sat down in a small restaurant around the block from Minho’s apartment. Minho looked up expectantly, biting his lip.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Mhm,” Newt responded while going through the menu throughly.

“Wanna leave right now?” Minho wondered with a wave towards the entrance. Newt rolled his eyes. Minho just grinned. They ate, talked, flirted and Minho came up with an extreme amount of seriously bad sex-puns along the way. Newt spewed that he was already reconsidering, it made Minho stop for all of two minutes.

When they got back to the apartment, they'd already beginning undressing. Minho had started kissing him all hot and heavy in the stairwell like he couldn't wait any longer. Minho stripped him, when they finally got inside the aprtment, not with the same kind of ease as he’d done the bath-time, he seemed to be much too eager to work meticulously. He’d only gotten his own chest bare when Newt had been completely naked, though. Strong hands had guided Newt till he sat down on Minho’s bed and he’d dropped down on the floor between Newt’s knees. Newt stiffened a bit.

“What are you…?" He put a hand on Minho’s head when he started to kiss the insides of Newt’s thigh, near the knee, making him stop and look up.

“I was going to blow you? I don't have to if you don't want me to.” Newt couldn't remember the last time anyone had gone down on him. He felt a shiver rush through him and his heart sped up when Minho curled his fingers around the base of his cock and the other hand came up to grab at his hip.

“Okay,” he stuttered. Minho smirked as he gave Newt a few strokes, and wet kisses up his thigh.

“Good, ‘cause I've been wanting to do this for weeks,” and with that he dropped his mouth over Newt’s cock and sucked so that his cheeks hollowed. Newt threw his head back of the intensity of it.

The experience was nothing like he’d ever felt before. There hadn’t been too many blowjobs for Newt to enjoy through the years and none of the ones he’d been given had been particularly good, since the person giving them really hadn’t _known_ what they were doing, Newt decided. Because Minho knew. He knew how to apply the right pressure, enough saliva, how to keep his teeth out of the way, when to speed up, how to twist his tongue… Painstakingly fast, Newt felt himself closing in. He couldn’t come yet. He patted Minho’s head, once lightly and then with a bit more force to get him to hit the brakes.

“ _Minho_ , Minho, **Minho**!” The last time he shouted the name, Minho immediately pulled of him, stopped touching him all together and sat back on his heels, breathing heavily.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I thought you were just warning me.” Concern flashed over his eyes, like he’d done something wrong and Newt gaped.

“What?” he asked restrained. “You want me to come? Like this? Before…?” _Before you fuck me_ didn’t come out.

“Well, my intension was to make you come twice.” Minho looked down, looking sheepish.

“Oh.” That hadn’t even been an option in Newt’s book.

“So, may I make that intension a reality?” Newt bit his lips and nodded, Minho just went at it again.

When he came undone, he grabbed Minho’s hair and made him sink down further on his cock which dragged a hungry vibration through Minho’s chest. It made Newt squeeze a _holy fuck_ in between his low pitched cries. Minho licked and sucked till Newt literally fell down on the bed. Minho crawled on top of him while he came down, squared him in with his arms and legs and pecked his cheeks.

“I could do this forever,” he murmured. He almost looked like he was going to go to sleep, eyes closed and humming slightly. Newt took the opportunity to grab Minho and roll them over so that Newt was laying splayed over Minho.

“Oho,” Minho snickered, “you interested in being on top?”

“No!” It came out a little too high, a little too fast, maybe a little too panicked.

“It's cool,” Minho said, rubbing soothingly at his sides, “I usually top but there have been a few times with a couple of g-

“I don't want to top,” he said in an almost laughter. Newt was such a Nelly bottom he'd never actually thought about topping. He got Minho out of his remaining clothes, paid attention to his hard cock for too long (since he only stared) and was dragged down by Minho’s hands on his shoulders.

“Okay, as long as your happy.” Minho grinned and then proceeded to tongue fuck his mouth with such intense force that Newt felt light headed again after about two minutes. Needless to say, he was hard and totally ready to go in a very short time. They grinded together and Newt whimpered in Minho’s ear, it made Minho roll them over again. He placed brutal kisses all over Newt and made love-bites all over his neck. Newt didn’t think he owned a single thing that could cover those up, but didn’t care for the moment. The other man shoved his hands underneath Newt’s body and grabbed at his ass. Both of them groaned.

“Wanna do this?” Minho asked and slowed down, kissed Newt chaste a couple of times and waited or a reply.

“Totally,” Newt said and sucked a hickey onto Minho’s skin before letting him go. Minho got off the bed and fetched the lube from his nightstand. Newt rolled to his side, watched the curve of the other man’s naked body and almost jolted with how much he just _wanted_ it, wanted _him_. When Minho slipped back into bed, he lay behind Newt, spooning him, which surprised the blond man.

“Ehm…” he said but Minho shushed him and patted a little at his thigh. Newt pulled his leg up slightly, not all the way to his chest but merely enough to form a ninety degree angle. Minho mouthed at his neck and it made the hair’s all over his body stand, he shivered.

“May I?” Minho whispered and instead of answering, Newt just pushed himself onto Minho’s wet and waiting finger and God, the sounds that pulled from Minho’s throat. He didn’t have to move himself one inch after that. Minho teased and went unhurriedly along, but he held Newt steady, like that was exactly how he wanted to do it. Newt couldn’t do more than moan and gasp as Minho scratched at his chest with short fingernails and the finger inside him stroked his sweet spot. He felt flushed and a rush of mild embarrassment settled when Minho whispered to him that it was okay.

“Just relax, I’ve got you.” He worked three fingers in before pulling them all out. The emptiness was uncomfortable. The familiar sound of a condom wrapper filled the silence that had settled and Newt wondered if they were going to do it, lying like this. It seemed like it, because Minho had grasped his arm to steady himself.

“You may,” Newt said before Minho had the chance to ask. It made the other man huff a short laugh and then slowly push himself inside. The motion made Newt tense at first, could hear how it affected Minho in a very pleasing wave of sounds, but he relaxed as soon as Minho wrapped an arm around his chest. They were still spooning and it felt oddly more intimate than anything Newt had ever tried before.  Feeling the whole of Minho against him, rocking back into him when he thrust, hearing his breath hitch and speed up as they found a steady pace. It wasn’t the easiest position ever, but it worked, felt real bloody good even.

“You good?” Minho whimpered in his ear.

“Amazing,” he croaked back. _Wonderful. Breathtaken. Fantastic._ He moaned and threw a hand back to grab at Minho, the sheets, anything really. It was Minho’s hair he finally got his fingers around and he tangled through it, pulled and pressed. Minho groaned, bit down on Newt’s shoulder and their rhythm quickened.

He barley noticed as Minho removed his arm from his torso and grabbed his cock instead, the release already built up enough to tip him over the edge without Minho’s hand on him.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” Minho chimed, shaking behind him. He managed to make them come nearly exactly at the same time, which was one of the hottest things Newt ever had the pleasure to experience.

“We should do this more often,” Minho stated when he could breath again.

“You should do me more often.” Newt slowly pulled Minho out of himself and twisted around to grab, knot and dispose of the condom. Then he lay down, facing Minho, who just pulled him in for a hug, tangled their limbs together and kissed his lips.

“I can do you whenever you want.”


	8. Not even a week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “God, I love you.” It was a slip up, he shouldn’t have said it, he hadn’t even meant to, he wanted to take it back. Not that it wasn’t true, he was desperately, madly, in love but this wasn’t the right time.  
> “I don’t-” Minho started saying and Newt’s heart dropped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are. The last chapter, chapter 8. I want to thank everyone that have been commenting on it during these days, it have been a pleasurable experience and I hope you come back to read more Minewt (or you know, any other of my fic's that peeks your interest) in the future! (Also, it's totally ok to send me prompts, I can't promise I write them but I'll try!) 
> 
> This is for [Lovi](http://evilqueenofslytherin.tumblr.com/) and thanks to Lovi as well. 
> 
> Enjoy! 
> 
> I highly appreciate feedback and you are also more than welcome to point out spelling or grammatical errors since English isn't my first language.

Newt didn’t hear anything more from Thomas. When he’d been too curious one night and gone to the other man’s facebook-page, he was surprised to see that he was unfriended. It made him feel proud over himself. Like he’d actually accomplished a serious act of “standing up for himself”. Which, he realised, was also the case. He and Minho were in a good place, especially since they’d started fucking quite regularly and one Saturday evening Minho had made it his life’s mission to make Newt come as many times as he could (four times in just a couple of hours; build up agonizing and wonderful each time and he’d done it twice only by using his tongue). There had been a couple of down-days but they’d past quietly. Minho had made him tea and kept telling stories from when he was younger. Minho was literally the best. Newt tried telling him so a few times, but he brushed it off with a joke. That, was going to be changed. If Newt couldn’t contradict Minho whenever he told him he was looking hella fine, Minho couldn’t contradict _him_ when he told him that he was awesome.

So he planned a dinner. A romantic dinner and he would tell Minho just how grateful he was. Got stuck on Google when he searched for recipes and learned a lot about quinoa. Somehow that was really interesting. Bought a shitton of ingredients and cooked for almost two hours before feeling satisfied. He was really happy that he did finish it by that time, since Minho were to arrive about four minutes later.

“Okay,” he sighed nervously when he led Minho to the kitchen, “I have no idea what this is really called, but it’s quinoa and avocados and a lot of other stuff and it looks pretty much like it did in the recipe so don’t blame me if it tastes like clunk.” Minho raised his eyebrows at him but it was in a gesture that said he couldn’t wait to get to taste it. Newt held a hand out for Minho to take a seat and he gladly did.

“What’s all this for?” He asked, eyeing the candles and the meal. He looked faked suspiciously at Newt. “You’re not gonna ask me to marry you, are you? Because I know I’m husband material but-”

“I’m not asking you to marry me,” Newt said and rolled his eyes. Minho chuckled and grabbed his hand. Newt shooed him of, made him load a portion to his plate instead.

“I simply wanted to thank you,” Newt said earnestly. Minho picked up his fork and shot him a questioning look before digging into the food.

“What for?” he asked, mouth full and literally moaning while chewing. “This is _delicious_.”

“Everything. You being the most patient man I’ve ever met. The most kindhearted and caring and selfless. For staying. Thank you being you. Thank you for chatting me up, for going on a date with me, thank you for sticking around when I wasn’t even responding. There are so many things that’s regarding you that I am thankful for and this nowhere nears says it all but I wanted to do something just for you. You deserve the world and I am happy you want to be with me.“

Minho had dropped his cutlery and stared at Newt, face laced with a thick layer of shock. Then he was reaching across the table, grabbed Newt by his shirt, pulled him close and kissed him like the world was going to end. He didn’t say much during the rest of the meal, just hummed to himself and digging into the food with the most utter intension to devour it all.

“Thank you,” he said when they were finished, “this was truly amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” Newt said and Minho actually blushed. They kissed softly once before Minho pulled away. He got up and before Newt could protest, he was putting away the dishes. Newt inspected his ass when he put the plates into the dishwasher and didn’t even look away when Minho caught him. Minho grinned and wiggled it. Newt laughed.

Minho had only time to turn his attention to the dishes and Newt only had time to put his head in his hand before he said, “God, I love you.” It was a slip up, he shouldn’t have said it, he hadn’t even meant to, he wanted to take it back. Not that it wasn’t true, he was desperately, madly, in love with the black haired man but this wasn’t the right time. It might never be the right time. It made things clearer and even more wrongly timed when Minho snapped his gaze towards him. Expression distressed.

“I don’t-” he started saying and Newt’s heart dropped.

“No,” Newt interrupted gasping, stood up and staggered forward, “no, no, nonono, don’t say it, please.” He huddled up against Minho, cupped his face with both hands and tried to desperately convey through his eyes that he needed him to just _play along_. “Just pretend, just… this once. Don’t say anything. Pretend that you love me and kiss me again.” Newt held his lips as close to Minho’s he dared. He felt the hot breath that rushed out of the other mans mouth. Minho stared at him, rigid and stricken. He placed the glass he was holding down on the counter behind him. “Please,” Newt begged.

“Newt, I-” He cut himself off while he searched Newt’s face, for what Newt wasn’t sure of. He looked perplexed. He was clutching at Newt’s waist now, holding him still and pressing him against himself. “I don’t have to pretend,” he murmured. Shock struck Newt like lightning and he dropped his hands, they fell from Minho’s face to his sides. He didn’t have time to ask “what” or scream at Minho that he was just supposed to shut up, not lie to his face, he was just supposed to pretend. Just once. He didn’t have time because then Minho’s fingers lay against his chin and his lips were crushing Newt’s. Newt stopped breathing.

He remembered the first time Thomas had said he loved him. It’d been during sex.

There were more important things than thinking about Thomas, he realised. He was being kissed mindless by the person he loved. The person who’d just told him he didn’t have to pretend to love him back. He didn’t think he could hold it together if Minho was lying, if this wasn’t true. But why wouldn’t it be? Yet, his brain told him, why would it be?

“I’m sorry, I just freaked out, I wasn’t going to tell you I don’t,” Minho said, sounded desperate when he broke the kiss. “I haven’t told anyone that before and then you just said it so casually like it was the most obvious thing, and okay, granted, I’m easy to love, but Newt…” His eyes were huge, vulnerable and even if he tried a joke, there was nothing in his voice that tinted of lies.“ Newt,” he just finished while shaking his head and pressed hard kisses to his face again. It was passionate but Minho made no move to take it further and what seemed like a million years later, they parted. They pressed their foreheads together instead. Minho looked like he was on the verge of tears and Newt didn’t know what to do.

“Say it again,” Mihno pleaded.

“I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you too,” Minho whimpered. Then he hugged him. Embraced him in strong arms, lifted him of the ground and spun him around. Newt was stunned.

“I love you too, oh my god, I love you too, IloveyoutooIloveyoutoo.” The words tumbled into themselves because Minho was kissing him everywhere at the same time. He hugged him tightly and spun once more.

“But it’s so early on,” Newt said when he was let down again. Because it really was.

“C'mon,” Minho said shaking his head, “since when is anything we do normal paced? We literally kissed before we knew each other’s names.” Newt nodded towards Minho’s knowing eyebrows. He was right of course. Minho was sweet, sassy, comical and caring and he filled Newt with power he didn’t know he had. He could take the dips, he would be there for the falls, he would stay till the rise and he would sit by Newt on the top. Through it all, it seemed. Newt wanted to cry and wasn’t really sure if he did or not. Everything felt nice. Minho felt strong in his arms. Newt was happy. The whole situation was bloody marvelous.

The End.@

 

  
For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might do a podfic of this. Depends on whether or not I'm really in the mood to record over 12 000 words.

**Author's Note:**

> Like my stuff? [Buy me a coffee!](https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mee4ever)


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